


Weighted Pull Up

by Meraripill



Category: Everybody Wants Some
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 02:32:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6547057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meraripill/pseuds/Meraripill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McReynolds loses at Ping-Pong and Roper is there to console him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weighted Pull Up

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Упражнение с утяжелением](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9799817) by [WTF_Tyler_Hoechlin_2018](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WTF_Tyler_Hoechlin_2018/pseuds/WTF_Tyler_Hoechlin_2018)



> I couldn't resist being the first to post in this Fandom. 
> 
> My apologies to Richard Linklater, who I love and admire. I hope you never see this. 
> 
> I love the interplay between Hoechlin and Guzman. I think they’re cute together. 
> 
> It was interesting in the movie that McReynolds doesn’t have a lot of close relationships but he does appear to have a solid friendship with Roper.

“Oooooh Shiiiiit!” Nesbit and Coma share a look of trepidation as Team Captain Glen McReynolds stomps up the stairs. 

 

“Way to go, freshman.” Roper scolds Jake as he follows his team captain up the stairs. He hears Jake and Finnegan discussing the difference between being a sore loser and a perfectionist. 

 

Roper knows McReynolds better than anyone and he knows this isn’t about being a perfectionist. That would be too simple. It’s the fragile leash that Glen McReynolds has on his internal critic. The critic that speaks with his father’s voice and writes scathing reviews, clicks off his stats and docks his value with every chance. Roper doesn’t think McReynolds was an abused child. He agrees with his father too much for that. He has too much drive for it to be forced on him. That competitive streak is embedded in his DNA. 

 

Roper doesn’t knock. McReynolds has his back to the room, hanging from the bar screwed into the closet door frame. He stretches his toes down and wedges a fifty pound barbell between his ankles before huffing and curling his body into a series of pull ups, each ending with a mumbled curse. 

 

“Nice form.” Roper isn’t a therapist, he’s a teammate and a friend. He didn’t come up to console, he’s there to distract. He knows now that’s the best way to get McReynolds out of a self abuse spiral. 

 

“...bullshit.” The dumbbell falls to the floor as McReynolds releases the bar and shakes out a cramp forming. 

 

“Hey, did I tell you who I ran into this summer at the coast?” Roper knows they haven’t talked in months but the question at least gets McReynolds to make eye contact. McReynolds has a self inflicted handprint on the side of his face and he light green eyes are almost glistening with pain. Roper wonders, in what world he could just place his hand over the mark and pull the big man into an embrace. Not this one, that’s for sure. 

 

“No.” McReynolds looks impatient. He grips the bar again and kicks at the weight at his feet. Roper moves close to bend down and lift to ankle height. He keeps a steadying hand on McReynolds thigh as he adjusts the weight to a comfortable position. 

 

“Do you remember Theresa from Pflugerville? She was friends with Susan Godfrey.” The team had a long list of raunchy rhymes about girls from Pflugerville. Finnegans’ being descriptive,  lengthy, literary and filthy. 

 

“Yeah. The dirty blonde?” McReynolds almost smiled. 

 

“Yeah.” Roper laughed with relief as he knew now he had his attention. “I was at the family beach house down in Galveston. Me and Grant were drinking behind the bungalow when this girl comes walking by. She’s got on this big floppy hat so I only see the bikini that looks like it was made from doilies tied on with string. I mean, it’s not hiding anything. She looks like she has lace and tanned on her skin. 

 

“Uh-huh” McReynolds drops from the bar and stretches. He shakes out his hands and looks really interested now. 

 

“Grant elbows me in the side just as she lifts up the brim of her hat and says ‘Roper? What are you doing this far from a ball field?’” 

 

Roper leans against the wall and watches McReynolds roll his shoulders. He’s broken a sweat now and looks nowhere close to quitting. He holds the bar and stretches forward, getting a good pull on his triceps. 

 

“So I offer her some of the bottle we were sharing and she says Susan has a pitcher of margaritas at her place so we all walk down.” Roper is half hard just at the memory. 

 

“How long is this story.” McReynolds grumbles.

 

“Oh, I need to set this up right. Be patient.” Roper grins wide and sly. 

 

“So we get to the shack she and Susan are renting and Grant takes the hint and drags Susan out for a smoke. Theresa jumps on my back and points to the bedroom. So, this is when she finally takes off the hat.” Roper waits for McReynolds to look up at him. 

 

“She’s buzzed her hair down to a scant inch. Practically bald.” Roper laughs as McReynolds flinches. 

 

“Why!” McReynolds shudders. 

 

“I guess there was a mishap at the salon and her hair was bleached off.” Roper waves his hand over his head. “Thing is, She’s really cute. Familiar looking. Big brown eyes and glossy pink lips. It’s still on.”  Roper subconsciously adjusts himself. “So, she’s enthusiastic. Decides to give me a blow.” 

 

McReynolds switches from pull ups to knee raises. 

 

“So she’s got most of me in her mouth and working the shaft. She’s skilled. And I’m watching her when I realize who she reminds me of. She looks like Brian Toferson, this right fielder from our senior league. He was just a bit too pretty with long hair and kept it shaved all year round.” 

 

“Mid blow you think this?” McReynolds drops to his feet. He’s suspicious now. 

 

“Hey, Not intentionally.” Roper holds his finger up defensively. “So I just close my eyes, right? Focus on her. She smelled like Coppertone and lime. She’s making these adorable mewling noises and I’m back in the game when I forget about her hair and put my hand on her head.” 

 

“Don’t do it.” McReynolds hides his huge grin as he wipes the sweat from his face with the hem of his shirt. 

 

“It feels amazing. I have this immediate sense memory of getting a summer buzz cut; I can’t keep I hands off my own head, that’s when I first start to wank it. So I’m rubbing her fuzzy scalp and I come. Hard.” 

 

“What did she do?” McReynolds still has his hand wrapped in his sweat soaked shirt. It’s bunched up under his arms, exposing his chest. His left arm twitching so hard that his fingers clenched. 

 

“Well, she handled it like a champ. Mostly. There was quite a bit of spunk on her thighs but she didn’t complain.” Roper uncrossed his arms across his chest and reached out to McReynolds shoulder. He dug a thumb hard into the flinching muscle. With his other hand, he gripped the thick elbow of his teammate and shook, jiggling the muscle.  

 

“Why are you telling me this?” McReynolds decides to strip off the sweaty tank top and use it to wipe himself off. 

 

Roper looks serious for a second, almost afraid. “So, I was so caught up in my own head between memories of masturbation, Brian’s stupid buzz cut and the feel of her head, when I get her on the bed and slide my hand up her thigh, I’m slightly disappointed that there’s nothing to wrap my hand around.” Roper realizes he has his hand wrapped around McReynolds’ wrist and he lets go. 

 

McReynolds stands perfectly still. More quietly he says again. “Why are you telling me this?’ 

 

Roper rubs his sweaty hands off on his cut off sweatshirt. “You’re my friend right?” He waits for eye contact. “I’m afraid that I might be half gay. That is much more of a shit deal than losing at ping pong.” Roper tries to sell the joke. He laughs over his own fear and waits for McReynolds to laugh as well. Waits for him to punch him in the arm and joke around about it. 

 

“Is that a shit deal?” McReynolds looks sincere. “You still like women. You won’t have a problem getting married and having kids.” He nods at Roper with approval. “We can still have a bit of a greek relationship and that’s nobody’s business.” 

 

“We have a greek relationship?” Roper is on his heels now, wracking his brain for the reference. He knows he’s heard it from Finnegan once or twice. 

 

“We could.” McReynolds turned toward Roper, his head lowered and eyes up. 

 

Roper doesn’t remember the reference but he gets what McReynolds is saying. He slides his hand across the flat planes of the other man’s stomach. “We could.” 

 

McReynolds takes Ropers hand and puts it over the swell in his shorts. “We could be really good at that.” 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

  
  



End file.
